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era uma oysterman novo alto
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
os prayers brancos pequenos
traga-me a canção macia
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
era o outono do ano
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
no alvorecer, disse
eu sou uma mulher
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
o prado estava rastejando
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel

 



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